Flash of a Fairytale and Food

Once upon a time, several galaxies away, there lived a fairy woman of free spirit who did not wish to marry. Samaira lived on a magical-realm planet and possessed many such abilities.
One day the Knight Regent of their land arrived at her castle home searching for his bride. He’d been on tour visiting all the fair maidens and was welcomed with open arms by her beloved parents, who believed Bethaira, her sister, would be his choice for marriage.
Instead, the Knight Regent requested and was granted courtship of Samaira, to her very terrible dismay.

From my WIP ~ Crescent Moon

I ~~~
Samaira lifted another morsel to her lips. Before biting into it, she inquired, “What magic potion did you use in your recipe?”

“High praise, my Samaira. Yet there is only the aphrodisiac of the vrishee mushroom. I promise.” He raised his palm, a man’s amused defense against her woman’s glare. “You invoked against the ‘touch’ of passion.” His grin dashing and unrepentant, he continued, “I heard not one word against the ‘taste’ of passion.”

“Yes! Knight Regent, I should have chosen my words more precisely. Now that I am in possession of the truth, I shall not ask for more.”
II ~~~
Samaira set the empty dish on the table with a dignified clatter.

“Then perhaps your palate will be tempted by the asparagus spears your mother prepared for us.”

Samaira fiery-tossed her head, her temper sparked. “Mothers knows I will not refuse, unless ill. Most perfectly played, Knight Regent. Are you so excellent at lawn games? To speak of sporting gaiety.”

Zobaque removed the lid from the serving dish, placing asparagus on a finger plate. “Excellent enough not to embarrass your well touted skills, my blazing beauty.” Lifting the plate, he chose one of the spears. “One from my hand, Samaira?”
III ~~~
Temptation or a seductive taunt? Samaira knew not which, his expression was neutral, his silver eyes fathomless.

She rolled her eyes. “A filly to be trained to your hand? Then to your spear...Knight Regent?”

“I am that wooing-desperate, yes.” Zobaque smiled, a slow amused curving of his mouth. Yet truth shone in the dark depths of his gaze upon her. He elegantly held the spear of asparagus before her succulent, large and firm. “One,” he tempted.

“It begins with one,” Samaira muttered. “Consider this the danger your rutting loins dare.” Learning forward, she bit sharply into the long asparagus spear.
IV ~~~
She bit again. And bit again. She bit against his fingertips. Then Samaira chewed vigorously.

“Quite delicious,” she praised. “Will you try one? Mother will wish to know your level of enjoyment.” Samaira refused him her eyes.

“I believe,” he spoke in embers, virile embers, “my enjoyment will be a most untamed and splendid one.”

Samaira flushed, heat striking up her cheeks. She heard the devouring tempo of his teeth as he ate an asparagus spear. Suddenly, her breasts tingled, her gown’s bodice too restrictive. Annoyed no rainbow’s end, she straightened her spine, her shoulders tilted her chin in defiance.
V ~~~
“Delicious, indeed,” he rasped deeply. “You may tell your endearing mother my enjoyment is extreme. May I offer you another spear, only by finger dish, my Samaira?”

His tone teased over her, the stroke of a velvet glove.

Samaira knew she should have bound her rebellious tongue.

“Will you be ‘offering’ me your spear only upon the socially adept manners of a finger dish?”

‘Goddess do believe, she mentally chastised herself. I have unwittingly stabled a receptive mare next to a mounting-experienced stallion.’

Samaira resisted the fierce urge to clench her eyelids shut. She did blink, and mightily collect herself.
VI ~~~
Zobaque regarded his intended bride as he set the dish on the table, before he flung it anywhere, out of his way! His desire for Samaira owned every piece of him. “Perhaps, I have mishandled my fate,” he began.

Silken, yet with the sting of nettles, his voice flowed over her. Samaira stiffened her posture, and her resolve.

“My incomparably beautiful woman, I should have impulsively mounted you with the entire force of my passions...the first time I came upon your bare frolic in the grove pond, within our borderland.”

Her eyes flew to his, winging like a hummingbird.
VII ~~~
The truth he spoke etched his features. A fierce glisten possessed his gaze. Samaira swallowed, remembering how often she had ‘frolicked’ before his leaving, and before their flame-throwing battle of words.

“Merely once,” Zobaque spared her, witnessing the shock in her eyes. He also treasured what he had gained knowledge about her passionate nature, so revealed by her sparring words Woman against Man in the Mating Dance. Or, the test of a filly on the mettle of a stallion.

“Once at the mirror pond.” She lowered her gaze and forced her clutched hands apart. “I shall say your restraint gains my appreciation.”
VIII ~~~
“My ‘restraint’ will also be appreciated later, I believe.” Zobaque retrieved the finger dish, offering the asparagus spears.

Samaira chose one for the sake of distraction, for the appearance of normal dining. Why allow him full view of her flustered state? “Later, Knight Regent?” she challenged, then nibbled on the luscious spear.

Zobaque leisurely lifted one of the spears to his mouth, savoring it gradually. He savored her, her presented beauty, her spirit, ephemeral fire to blazing goddess. He planned on savoring his Samaira, all of her ‘flames’ in the ways a man could savor a woman, and his wife.
IX ~~~
“A courtship pleasure later,” he answered, “once we have finished dining. Tell me, do you have a preference?” Zobaque enjoyed another asparagus spear, and waited.

“My preference is to present a curtsy, speak a nightly farewell and return to my apartment without your company, Knight Regent.”

“I dared hope you would spin me about the floor in the latest dance between a man and a woman.” Zobaque presented his words straight-faced, yet knew his eyes glittered a tease.

“I am certain Bethaira could perform that teaching favor for you. And in a superior manner. Shall I inquire of her ‘later’?”
X ~~~
Zobaque leaned forward. “Yet it is only you I would have spin me in pleasure’s privacy...Samaira.”

“I wish no privacy with you. That should be as clear as the tiniest drop of rain, Knight Regent.”

“Is it not the privilege of a man to persuade a woman toward his pleasure with their shared pleasures?”

“I revoke your privilege,” she commanded with a thrust of her chin.

“Then you revoke every man and male animal in our faire world.” Zobaque forced his gaze from her, from her ‘faire’ delectable bosom, reaching for the crystalline bowl. “Strawberries and cream, my Samaira?”
~~~~~~

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY ~
May the winds blow for you and not against you...

Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance ~
~~~~~~